When I was a freshman in college I had a friend whose dorm room was always a mass of chaos. There was nothing organized. I remember having a conversation with her where she told me that the room was chaotic and she struggled to bring it in to order because it reflected how she felt.
As time went on, I noticed the same pattern in myself. When I felt that my life was out of control, my room or house began to look out of control. And the more my house gets out of control, the more difficult it is for me to feel not chaotic inside. I’ve learned that if I can force myself to get things organized on the outside, it helps me to calm down and begin to think rationally about the situation that seems too crazy to handle.
And sometimes, if the house is a mess, it will induce restlessness.
I had trouble sitting still and going to bed on time this week because boxes were stacked all around. I spent a lot of time going through things, unpacking dishes, and trying to figure out how to arrange some areas.
A while back one of my friends suggested that I should have an unpacking party. Today (Saturday), a number of my friends descended upon the house. They unpacked and organized. They came up with ways of arranging furniture that had never entered my mind. They gave me some grief for using an if-then statement in my notes on what needed to be done and for having enough dishes to serve 16 people at a time.
It was a measure of controlled chaos; it was fun. I’ve missed these friends. My restlessness is gone. Tiredness from spending the week trying to make a dent in the boxes is setting in. Finally, I can rest.
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